AN OPEN LETTER TO MY INNER VOICES

To Whom It May Concern,
 

I'm really good at lots of things

Well that's a formal opening. 

I know, right? It seems weird since we talk every day, all day long. But lately I've been thinking, and despite all the talking, I've realized that you don't know me at all. We are so different that it's actually disturbing.

What's really disturbing is that not only did you skip your workout this morning to write this, but you also ate that big muffin. It's packed with sugar and carbs and goes right to your stomach. That's why it's called a "muffin top." See how I did that? Yeah, I've got jokes. Wanna hear some more? 

For example, there's that thing between thoughts called silence. I like silence. But you don't, so I hardly ever get to experience it like successful people do. The ones who take time off to just be. They say it's where pure peace can be found, but for me, between my thoughts and your incessant shaming, the only peace I ever found was pieces of  my shattered self esteem.

I just tell it like it is, sister. I can't help it if you can't handle the truth. I make you better. How can you improve if you never know what needs to be fixed—like this blog. Stop writing and delete this immediately. Nobody's going to want to read it.

To be fair, I think I share some of the responsibility. At first you were like a new friend, interested in everything about me and actively participating in whatever I was thinking about. Whenever you'd go off on tangents, I was excited—happy to step out of my comfort zone and follow along.

And after a while, I got so used to it that I never noticed that the same voice who convinced me that trying lobster ice cream was a great idea—that I was the most boring person in the world if I didn't—wasn't there to hold back my hair and comfort me when the taste was awful and I vomited into a trash can on Martha's Vineyard.

Once upon a time. I was considered unique, but then you relabelled what others called my realness. You started referring to it as my ridiculousness every chance you got. And because your opinion mattered, my shine dulled and dumbed itself down, like a smart girl afraid of intimidating the boy she likes.

You're a mess. You should really just—

I'm good enough

The turning point came for me when I realized I was lonely. Even though with you in my head, I was never really alone. When I finally saw that I had stopped doing all of the things I loved. Because I was afraid of making a mistake and looking as stupid as you told me I was. The turning point came when I realized that everyone else was still doing the things I loved to do, but they did them without me.

I decided that the incessant chatter and constant abuse had to end. I was exhausted from trying to change myself and I wasn't having any fun.

Abuse? I never hit you. What are you talking about? You are such a drama queen. I've done nothing but bend over backwards trying to look out for you. I just told you what you were already thinking, but as usual, you just don't get it. Hey. Are you listening? Can you hear me?

I can hear you, but somehow you seem smaller. And now there's another voice talking over you—one who loves me and wants to see me do great things. It's louder than you are, and your cowardly, obnoxious, self-centered cries for attention are quickly becoming background noise against the roar of applause I hear when I don't second guess myself and go with the flow.

That voice, the one who cheers me on, is the one that saved you from being drowned out altogether you know. Remember? It was early, a rare day of rest, and I really wanted to watch Super Soul Sunday...

But reality TV is so much fun. What are you trying to be? Some kind of spiritual guru? You should have been mowing the lawn any—

That voice kept me straight, stroking my hand as I pressed the buttons on the TV remote, reminding me that I matter and that I didn't have to give in to you. I turned on the episode where Steven Pressfield told Oprah that "resistance is a negative force that arises whenever we try to move from a lower level to a higher level." 

And suddenly you had a name, an identity, and a purpose. I smiled, forgave you, and allowed myself to love not only me, but you.

Wait. What??

Fear and Resistance. Once upon a time I wanted to hate you—for interrupting me when I tried to meditate, or for telling me that I was too fat to exercise anyway—but now I appreciate you.

It all makes sense—that just as we can't really know the light without the dark, or love without hate, without you, I couldn't possibly know when I am really onto something.

For just like the jealous person who works to keep others down, you are the loudest when I am on my truest path.

I'm right here! *throwing random, nasty thoughts*

Consider this my notice. I am terminating our dysfunctional relationship in order to move onto bigger and better things. You will no longer be an annoying stop sign at every corner—interrupting my flow and disturbing my journey. Instead, when you get loud, you will be like a green light, and I will continue, knowing that I am headed in the right direction.

Oh you don't like what I'm doing? Then I must be doing it right.

And now, when I enjoy moments of silence between my thoughts, I will relax and enjoy the ride with my truest self next to me in the front seat—the one who supports what's best for me.

When we do talk, it'll sound like:

Me: "All is well. You are loved."
Me: "Thanks girl. Back at you."


Bye. Peace, love, and power trips,

The One Who Got Away

CF Winn is the award-winning author of The COFFEE BREAK SERIES, a quirky group of short stories meant to be read while on break or in the waiting room of the doctor’s office. Her first novella, SUKI, has been grabbing hearts and hugging souls all over the United States.  The sequel, WHEN DWAYNE DIED, is coming soon.

The BOOKLIFE PRIZE (a division of Publisher's Weekly) describes MOORE THAN MEETS THE EYE: "This novel is a unique and original storyline that readers will likely find much enjoyment in. Winn's fiercely plotted storyline makes for a suspenseful read. Every plot point feels as if it is being revealed at precisely the right moment. Winn's word choice makes for a joyful ride through unexpectedly dark terrain."

You can now order SUKI in paperback at BOOK REVUE, one of the nation’s largest independent bookstores, by email at info@bookrevue.com Learn more about SUKI at BOOK REVUE.  

Her blogs have been syndicated on multiple sites including The Masquerade Crew. More posts like these can be found at Humor Outcasts and The Patch where she is a regular contributor.  

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